The pen plays vessel to my healing.
The appeal of my layers peeling
has younger me gleaming at the version of me he’s been seeing.

It’s apparent to me that sometimes the weight of the world has me bursting at the seams.
But i’ve found so many vessels in the little things, that play therapy to the damaged me.
And in turn I tried to share that with her, and I could only hope that she sees me.
For all i was bringing and that she could find healing in all of my words and decipher their meanings.
And love herself the same way I try to love her entire being.
It’s me and this blog against the world for the rest of 2023.